Aysel's POV Perhaps it was the feeling of being fully trusted and supported that stirred something in me. After so many years of despair, I had once thought of never dancing again. But slowly, step by step, in this new path I carved for myself, I began to heal. No one had ever cared for me-if I didn't pull myself out of the shadows, I might have sunk into that pain forever, my wolf spirit crushed. The winds outside were calm now, clouds drifting lazily across the sky, but I knew the worst had passed. Life never runs along a single trail. There are always other ways to move forward. Magnus's gaze softened as he looked down at the small head resting against his arm. His little wolf, fragile yet tenacious, reminded him of a wild rose that could endure even the harshest storms. "Back home, then?" he asked. I shook my head after a moment. "In a few days. I'm not ready yet." There was no dance hall at my Moonvale Pack residence, and my rehearsal clothes hadn't been brought to the villa Magnus had gifted me. A quiet fire burned within me-I wanted to dance only when I could dance well in front of him. I couldn't endure the brutal training of a professional dancer. These years I had danced only for passion, for joy. But my choreography had earned praise from many mentors-my mind still held the grace and power of a true dancer. Magnus smiled. "Very well. As you wish, then." Our conversation shifted, the tense atmosphere from when we first entered the car melting away. The driver sneaked a glance through the rearview at Magnus, noting how relaxed and gentle he seemed now. Recently, he smiled more. He seemed easier to please.Of course, no one had ever dared to coax the Rafe of Shadowbane before. I knew he was laughing quietly at his own wandering thoughts. From the moment he moved into my Moonvale apartment-and then into the villa he gave me-Magnus had been more present here than in his own estate. Naturally, tonight we returned to my territory. Daron had been sulking before we left. The previous master and the new master going out together without him? He gave us only a stubborn glare from the doorway, his tail tucked, squat and displeased. Today, though, I detoured on our way home to the market, buying Daron a few new toys. Magnus fidgeted with a small ball in his hand. "You're awfully kind to him." I caught the playful edge in his tone and felt a spark of inspiration. "Of course. His master treats me well, so I return it in kind," I replied with mock solemnity. "As the saying goes, offer a peach, receive a pearl." Magnus's lips curved into a half-smile, eyes glinting. "You're sharp-tongued." I feigned innocence, smiling lightly. By the time we arrived home, night had fallen. But it wasn't Daron who greeted us. Instead, a familiar little figure squatted on the doorstep. Agnes. Her legs had gone numb from sitting so long. When the car lights hit her, her face lit up. "Brother Magnus!" Then, noticing me, she lowered her gaze respectfully. "Sister-in-law." The words struck me-her tone had changed completely, so deferential, so subdued. And Magnus, who had frowned at her overly familiar "Brother Magnus," relaxed his expression slowly."Agnes?" he asked. His voice was calm, certain-but his eyes were completely unfamiliar, detached. Agnes's chest tightened, as if a wolf had just been struck by a spear. He truly did not recognize her. She lowered her head, hopeless, nodding faintly. "Yes... Brother Magnus, I'm Agnes, Giovanna's niece." "And what brings you here?" Magnus asked. She shuffled her feet, tiptoes scraping the stone, head bowed so low it almost touched her chest. Stealing a glance at me, seemingly unconcerned with her presence, she whispered, "I came... to apologize to my sister-in-law." Words spoken at last, she closed her eyes and bent deeply at the waist, a solemn, reverent bow. "I'm sorry, Sister-in-law. Brother Magnus and I... we never had any childhood bond. It was all my arrogance. Coming to your doorstep unannounced, making assumptions about you, speaking with disrespect-it was wrong. I'm... truly sorry." I studied her carefully, noting the change in her scent, the submission that now replaced arrogance. Her alpha instincts were still there, but her pride had been clipped.